Guilty Pleasure
by TDtheMagicMan
Summary: Tweek has a dirty little secret. Something he does when nobody else is around. His own personal guilty pleasure. And boy does it bring him pleasure. He’d be so ashamed if anyone found out…


**Title: **Guilty Pleasure  
**Author:** Twitchable Wiz  
**Genre: **Romance/Humor  
**Rating: **T or PG-13  
**Pairing(s): **Tweek/Craig  
**Warnings: **language, slash (BOY WITH BOY! DON'T LIKE, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE!)

**Disclaimer:** All characters presented herein are the property of _Comedy Central_, _Trey Parker_, and _Matt Stone_. No profit of any kind is being made from this story. I don't own; please don't sue. I'm dirt-poor anyway, so it's not as if you'd get much. I just love these characters to death, and enjoy playing with them in my mind. _twitch _Any and all song lyrics or literary quotes, unless otherwise noted, are the properties of their respective owners, who will be credited at the end of each chapter. Once again, I do not own, don't sue poor Twitch! Anything otherwise noted, such as poetry or original lyrics, as well as the plot and storyline, are mine. Please do not use, copy, or post elsewhere without explicit permission from me. Printed copies are perfectly fine (if you actually think my work is good enough to print out) as long as proper credit is given. You can reach me through my **homepage**, listed in my profile.

**Further Disclaimers:** see end notes

**Summary: **Tweek has a dirty little secret. Something he does when nobody else is around. His own personal guilty pleasure. And boy does it bring him pleasure. He'd be so ashamed if anyone found out…

**Author's Notes:** TWEEK FIC! I needed some really bad, and I won't be getting any till the holidays (that I know about. HINT HINT!). So I wrote myself some. BEWARE THE MINDLESS, GOOFY FLUFF-NESS. This is the fifth fic I've started, and the first one finished. I wrote this for no particular reason other than my own personal enjoyment. And boy did I ever enjoy it! Biggest grin I've had since I saw the new Harry Potter movie. Which was the day after it came out, so not that long ago, but whatever. Please **READ AND REVIEW**; this being my first post I'd really like to know if anything I'm writing is worth reading. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms and imaginary cookies. Flames will be used to light my celebratory smoke. I finally stepped out of my bubble enough to post something, meaningless silly fluff or not, so I think I deserve one. I wrote this in about three hours and beta'd it myself over the course of another three hours, most of which was spent confirming that memory served for the various song lyrics…I apologize profusely if I missed any spelling, punctuation, or grammatical errors.

For **Maggie**, for being such a good person, a remarkable friend, for always building me up when I am down, and for being the first person to ever encourage me to post my writing. (She's brave, having never read any of it.) She has been both an amazing friend on a personal level, and a great source of inspiration and motivation to me. (Oh, and she's the only person to ever say they'd write something for me…big heaping smiles for that. I'm so looking forward to my TWEEK FLUFF! …I'm not obsessed. Really…) Also for any crazies out there. We gotta stick together. Nutjobs unite!

* * *

"Oh man! Craig will be here any second! And Mom and Dad will be home tonight! I don't know if I can finish in time! ACK!" 

16-year-old Tweek Tweak leapt out of bed, twitching spasmodically in place for a few seconds before running downstairs to the kitchen for some freshly brewed Columbia's finest, heavily laced with Irish Crème liquid creamer. After pouring and downing a cup in thirty seconds flat, he began to relax a little, scratching at his untamed shock of yellow hair.

Until he glanced at the big digital clock over the back door.

"10:00 already! Oh God! I stayed up too late with Craig, and then I slept in! Oh no!" His perpetually scared-looking blue-green eyes widened in even more terror. Feeling another panic attack coming on already, he poured another cup of relief, and took a moment to breathe and ponder his situation.

Tweek's parents were currently out of town picking up a very delicate order of a new brand of coffee for Tweak's Coffee Shop. Four times the caffeine, with the refreshing, tangy flavor of peach in every cupful. Sure to be a huge seller. They decided that Tweek was old enough to begin taking care of himself, and so he would stay home alone. Tweek disagreed heartily with this idea. What if robbers broke in while he was sleeping? Or the stove caught fire? Or an Avon lady came to the door? But they just said that he needed to grow up sometime and he couldn't live in fear forever. No arguments were allowed. So as soon as his folks walked out the door, he forced himself to pick up the telephone (after making frenzied warding signs at it for a good ten minutes) and hurriedly dialed the number for his best friend in the whole world. Craig immediately agreed to spend the next three days staying with Tweek so he wouldn't have a heart attack and die.

They'd had a blast together the past few days, watching silly comedy movies and eating way too much pizza and Rocky Road ice cream, or sometimes just sitting on the back porch swing talking and laughing about everything and nothing. Occasionally there was even some shy, tentative making out in front of the fireplace (which Craig had to light, because Tweek was terrified he'd light his hair on fire). A couple of months before, Tweek and Craig had began discovering each other as more than just best friends, and the two were closer than ever. This at once made Tweek happier than he'd ever been and even more nervous than usual. Craig was extremely good-looking, with soft hair the color of coffee, eyes the same but with a little cream added, and a well-toned soccer player's body. He was also very popular, whereas Tweek was looked upon with mostly pity. But Tweek knew without a doubt that Craig loved him, so he didn't let himself worry about that. Just thanked his lucky stars for sending him his beautiful Craigy.

And so Tweek made the most of his first weekend ever with the house as his own. Waking up with a tousle-headed Craig making faint whistling sounds in the bed next to him was a delightful bonus. Unfortunately, after being up till four in the morning, Craig had to go to an appointment at eight this morning with his behavioral therapist. He was due back at about one in the afternoon, after which they were going to watch a marathon of Red Racer till Tweek's parents returned. Another whole afternoon with Craig. Maybe they'd get to kiss some more! Thinking of Craig's ridiculously soft lips and Irish Crème-tasting mouth made Tweek's heart race and his temperature rise, and that brought him back to his current predicament.

He swallowed another cup of java as the tingling worked its way through his body.

_Must concentrate._

_How can I get what I need to get done done before he gets back? I couldn't bear it if he caught me. That'd be way too much pressure! I have till one, which is three hours from now. That should be plenty of time…as long as nothing bad happens…like aliens taking me away for weird experiments…or the F.B.I. trying to convict me of espionage…or those damn gnomes…wait, FOCUS, TWEEK! Okay…I can do this…and nobody will be any wiser. Just gotta go and do it. GO TEAM TWEEK! BREAK!_

He quickly made his way back to his bedroom, grabbed his old baseball bat from its usual place next to his bed (within easy reach if Satanic cult members tried to kidnap him) and began making his round of the house. Nothing went unsearched. Closets, cabinets, under his and his parents' beds, the toilet…all were thoroughly inspected to make sure there wasn't anybody lurking about to catch him in the act. He closed the curtains, made sure the front door was locked and dead-bolted, and peered in each heating vent. Finally satisfied that he was completely alone and unobserved by any means, he returned to his bedroom. Stowing the baseball bat, he tiptoed to the big safe in the corner of his bedroom. Peering around one last time to make sure nobody had found a way in and snuck up behind him to kill him, he pulled off the chain around his neck with the safe key and unlocked it. Reaching inside, he pulled a smaller lockbox from it and entered the combination. Clicking the box open, he pulled a small, round object from it, which he immediately hid under the tight dark grey t-shirt he was wearing. He returned the lockbox to the safe, and closed it.

Back downstairs again, he made a brief stop to the hall closet, withdrawing a large bulky object from it. Making his way to the living room, he took about fifteen minutes to prepare a few last details. Once everything was in place, Tweek was finally ready. A look of sheer, very un-Tweek-like naughtiness broke over his face at what he was about to do. He never seemed to have anytime alone to do this. He was either at school or with Craig or his parents were around. He couldn't even do it in the privacy of his own bedroom, because his parents were constantly checking on him to make sure he hadn't had an aneurysm over something.

_Oh man! I haven't done this in so long! But I guess anticipation increases excitation. Mmmm…here goes nothing!_

A press of a button later and Tweek closed his eyes in sheer ecstasy. He let the adrenaline flow through him as the rhythmic beat of the object formerly stashed under his shirt worked its magic. The deep buzz of a bass line started, and Tweek felt his whole body begin to pulse with it. Nodding his head, grin creeping lazily over his face, he let out a gasp of unadulterated pleasure as soon the words came…

**She says she's no good,**  
**With words but I'm worse,**  
**Barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic**  
**Got stuck to my tongue**

**Weighed down with words too**  
**Overdramatic**  
**Tonight it's "it can't get much worse"**  
**Vs. "No one should ever feel like…"**

Totally engrossed, he began to jump in place as the break began, singing his crazy little head off.

**I'm two quarters and a heart down,**  
**And I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds,**  
**These words are all I have so I'll write them,**  
**So you'll need them just to get by…**

Eyes closed, face enraptured, he paused with the music. Then the chorus began and he was off, bouncing and head-banging to the music. A flick of another switch and the large bulky object in his hand whirred to life.

**Dance, dance**  
**We're falling apart to half time**  
**Dance, dance**  
**And these are the lives you'd love to lead**  
**This, this is the way they'd love**  
**If they knew how misery loved me**

Tweek began to clean.

He thrashed about, vacuuming as he went to the powerful rock blaring from the stereo. Anyone catching a glimpse of the twitching teen at that moment would have had to triple-take, and then probably would have called an ambulance. He definitely made quite the sight, moshing around as if having a seizure, clad in nothing but a t-shirt, plain white boxer shorts that were two sizes too big and barely hung on his skinny hips, and mismatched socks.

By the time The Anthem had started he'd dropped the vacuum and was dusting in a pop-punk frenzy. Every time the song said to, Tweek's hands were in the air waving back and forth with reckless abandon.

**And I don't ever wanna be like you,**  
**I don't wanna do the things you do,**  
**I'm never gonna hear the words you say,**  
**And I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be…**

**You**  
**Don't wanna be just like you**  
**What I'm saying is  
****This is the Anthem, throw all your hands up**  
**You**  
**Don't wanna be you**

Bathroom next. He sang loudly as he wiped down shower and sink through Original Prankster, smile growing wider as he thought of his own "Original Prankster", Craig.

**Until the break of dawn,**  
**Life, life**  
**Can not go by the letter,**  
**Time, time**  
**Prozac can make it better**  
**Noise, noise**  
**Any kind will do**  
**Can you feel it slip away**  
**When it's all on you**

With a slight grimace and the first un-dance-related twitch since he'd started, he pulled on rubber gloves and attacked the toilet. When the second verse began, he chuckled at the irony of it and belted it out, head bobbing.

**You know, it smells like shit,  
****God damn  
****Tag team the double header  
****Son of Sam  
Fire always makes it better  
Navigate  
With style and aplomb  
Cause wherever you're at  
That's the tip you's on **

On his hands and knees, Tweek scrubbed the floor, body jerking in time with the beat, until the chorus came again. With a quickness he was on his feet, screaming the lyrics into his sponge, face screwed up in mock rage.

**Knock down the walls, it's alive in you  
Knock down the place, you're alone it's true  
Knock down the world, it's alive in you  
You gotta keep your head up through it all  
**

**You're gonna  
Bust out on it  
****Original prankster  
Break out yeah  
****Original yeah  
Bust out on it  
****Original prankster  
You never stop now, stop now  
That's what the main man say**

Footloose had his parents' room spic-and-span. He even fluffed their pillows as he kicked and leapt about. At one point, a full one-handed handspring took him over his parents' bed. But it didn't faze Tweek for a second. He was still lost in the music.

**Loose, footloose  
Kick off your Sunday shoes  
Please, Louise  
Pull me off of my knees  
Jack, get back  
C'mon before we crack  
Lose your blues  
Everybody cut footloose**

Tweek dragged his dance partner, otherwise known as the vacuum, downstairs to the basement to do The Twist. There was a large mirror on one wall, and he couldn't help but giggle at himself, rear stuck out comically as he "twisted" the basement free of dirt.

**Come on baby  
****Let's do the twist  
Come on baby  
****Let's do the twist  
Take me by my little hand  
****And go like this  
Ee-oh twist baby baby twist  
Oooh-yeah just like this  
Come on little miss and do the twist**

**My daddy is sleepin'  
****And mama ain't around  
Yeah daddy is sleepin'  
****And mama ain't around  
****We're gonna twisty twisty twisty  
****'Til we turn the house down  
Come on and twist yeah baby twist  
Oooh-yeah just like this  
Come on little miss and do the twist**

For the dusting, Tweek grooved out to Great Balls of Fire, once again thinking of his crazy-making boyfriend. He spazzed a bit at the thought of actually singing the song to him, but had to laugh at the mental picture he got of Craig's dumbfounded face. If only he had this kind of courage any other time…

**You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain  
Too much love drives a man insane  
You broke my will, oh what a thrill  
Goodness gracious great balls of fire**

Definitely Tweek's song for Craig. He decided that one day he'd play it, no matter how scared he was. It'd show Craig how much he truly did care. Tweek didn't step out of his cloistered box for just anyone.

**You kissed me baby, woo...it feels good  
Hold me baby, learn to let me love you like a lover should  
Your fine, so kind  
I'm a nervous world that your mine mine mine mine-ine**

**I bite my nails and I twiddle my thumbs  
I'm really nervous but it sure is fun  
Come on baby, you drive me crazy  
Goodness gracious great balls of fire**

Tweek's own bedroom was scarily neat and tidy, a product of his hardcore OCD. But he still jived his way up there, for his bedroom had a song of its very own. Everything is Alright, or Tweek's Theme Song.

**Tell me that you're alright,  
****Yeah everything is alright,  
****Oh, please tell me that you're alright,  
****Yeah everything is alright**

**Give me a reason  
****To end this discussion  
****To break with tradition  
****Fold and divide **

Cause I hate the ocean, theme parks, and airplanes,  
**Talking with strangers, waiting in line  
****I'm through with these pills that make sit still,  
****Are you feeling fine?  
****Yes I feel just fine**

_Someday. I will be just fine. Then I'll be who Craig deserves. It'll happen._ Tweek rocked out the chorus as he organized books and made his bed, smiling dreamily at the thought of a normal, happy future with the boy of his wildest wishings. No self-pity or angst at the lot he was dealt in life, just cheerful determination to overcome it. The music did that to him.

**I'm sick of the things I do when I'm nervous  
****Like cleaning the oven or checking my tires  
****Or counting the number of tiles in the ceiling  
****Head for the hills, the kitchen's on fire **

I used to rely on self-medication,  
**I guess I still do that from time to time,  
****But I'm getting better at fighting the future  
****Someday you'll be fine  
****Yes I'll be just fine**

_Someday I'll be fine. YAY ME!_

He jammed through the chorus a final time, and as the song wound to a close, he prepared for the big finale. This ritual, Tweek's guilty pleasure, wouldn't be complete without this final song and dance. He headed downstairs to the place where his day began, really began. Grabbing up his mop, he waited in anticipation for his cue. He knew it was horribly clichéd, but he'd burst into hysterical giggles the first time he'd seen it done, and just had to try it. It was a part of his little secret from then on. As a stirring rock piano intro filled the air, he giggled all over again, shaking his head at his own silliness.

**Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun**

**Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun**

He slid across the floor in his socks, one a white tube with a black stripe, the other a plain grey ankle, and struck an Elvis-like pose, mop handle in hand. His t-shirt was soaked through with sweat and cleaning products, and his boxers were barely hanging on to his lithe frame. _A little…er…drafty in here. Well, I'm the only one here. No big deal. I'll be decent by the time Craig's here._

**Just take those old records off the shelf,  
****I'll sit and listen to them by myself.  
****Today's music ain't got the same soul,  
****I like that old time rock and roll.**

**Don't try to take me to a disco,  
****You'll never even get me out on the floor,  
****In ten minutes I'll be late for the door,  
****I like that old time rock and roll**

_Sing it, Bob! Don't agree about today's music, but I'm with ya on the oldies_

**Still like that old time rock and roll,  
****That kind of music just soothes the soul,  
****I reminisce about the days of old,  
****With that old time rock and roll.**

Dropping to his knees, Tweek played the guitar break on his mop, face scrunched up in concentration. As the vocals began again, he jumped back to his feet to swab out the pantry, breathing in the ever-pervasive smell of coffee that saturated the small room.

**Won't go to hear 'em play a tango,  
****I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul,  
****There's only one sure way to get me to go,  
****Start playing old time rock and roll.**

On his knees again, Tweek crawled under the dining room table to scrub the floor under it, backside wagging back and forth in time with Mr. Seger's raw voice. As he scrubbed he vaguely thought he heard a door close somewhere, but completely dismissed it. He was too high on the music, singing his soul out to his mop and sponge.

**Call me unready, call me what you will,  
****Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill,  
****Today's music ain't got the same soul,  
****I like that old time rock and roll.**

He rose and blasted out the chorus again, then wailed his way through the horn solo. He spun around his mop, pounding out the beat with his whole body. He even managed a nifty kind of Electric Slide slash linedance maneuver that left him inordinately proud. When all but the drums and vocals stopped, he assumed his Elvis pose again and simply tapped his feet to the beat. With a resounding "Hey!" and a mid-air split that would have done Jackie Chan proud, the music kicked back in and he made his way toward the entrance to the living room. Strangely he thought he heard another voice besides his and good old Bob's, but again paid it no mind. Still swaying and rocking his shoulders back like he'd seen in some black guy's music video one time, he swished his way to the patch of linoleum at the front door where he'd left his mop bucket.

The music faded out as he plopped his mop into the soapy water. Gasping for air, thoroughly exhausted, he turned to shut off the object he'd been at such pains to conceal. A simple burned CD he'd made one night while his parents were asleep. But he was stopped cold by the sound of clapping. With a hop that would make a rabbit jealous, he turned to confront the clapper, shaking with fear.

"That is easily the best show I have ever seen in my life, Tweekster. And I have a feeling I only caught the very end. When do I get to see the rest?" Leaning casually in the entryway to the kitchen was the one person Tweek least wanted to catch him doing this ever.

"Craig! OH GOD!" _Oh geez oh geez oh geez oh FUCK! He's seen me! He'll never want to touch me again, he thinks I'm certifiable now, which duh but I didn't want HIM to know, and oh god he'll never come over and I'll never see him again except at school, and everything will be awkward and people will make fun of me even more oh FUCK!_

"W-w-what are you doing here? It's only 11:30!"

"Session got canceled, so I picked up some burgers for us with my mom."

"How did you get in? I locked all the doors! Oh man, you can walk through walls! Are you dead? Oh God no!"

Craig just shook his head, smiling fondly. "Calm down, Tweek! I'm definitely not dead. You left the back one unlocked." Tweek's eyes grew even bigger as that piece of information set in. _I could have been murdered! Anybody could have walked in! But that would have been better than this. _Starting to shake like a leaf, Tweek collapsed onto a couch and buried his face in his hands. It was bad enough that Craig had caught him in one of his most intimate moments. He refused to let the other boy see him cry.

"Tweek! What's wrong?" Craig was instantly at his side, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"N-n-n-nothing…I underst-stand if you wanna g-go now. I uh-understand…" Tears slipped from his eyes, as much as he tried to hold them in. Completely mortified, he shrugged off Craig's hand and turned away. _Oh god, just go Craig I can't take much more I can't it hurts too much just leave the nutcase and FUCKING GO!_

"What the hell? Why would I want to go?" Craig looked completely baffled, head cocked to the side rather like a dog. "Hey. Look at me, Tweeky. Tell Craig what's the matter." He replaced his hand in its former position and applied pressure, trying to turn Tweek to face him. Tweek allowed himself to be turned, but kept his face firmly planted in his arms.

"I'm crazy! That's what's the matter! You never knew how much, and now you do! ACK! I'm not normal! JESUS! You deserve someone normal!"

"Normal? Normal? Why the happy fuck would I want someone who's normal? What all these stupid people in this town call normal would bore the hell out of me! Wait…is this just because I caught you dancing? And cleaning?"

"Yuh-yeah." Another sob escaped.

"Look. At. Me." Tweek glanced up slowly, turquoise eyes shimmering with tears. Craig's face was a revelation. Tweek knew at once that he was being stupid, that Craig loved him no matter how insane he was. And all this was confirmed a second later when those velvet lips he fantasized about so much were planted firmly on his trembling own. Nothing insistent, just asking for Tweek to believe. Tweek couldn't take it and threw himself at Craig, pushing him into the leather sofa and straddling his thighs. This wasn't about just kissing anymore, or not freaking out anymore; it was about proving to Craig how much he loved him. Tweek linked his arms behind Craig's neck and sought entrance to that delicious mouth with his tongue. Craig was more than happy to oblige.

Some fifteen minutes later, when both boys were panting from lack of air, they broke apart. Tweek gazed into the amber eyes of his best friend and soulmate, seeing the love and unbridled lust there. It made his heart feel like a helium-filled balloon, soaring way up into Cloud Nine. Of course, it also made him blush a scarlet usually reserved for Christmas decorations. Craig gave him his trademark crooked grin and a peck on the lips.

"You are ridiculously cute when you blush, you know that, right? And I don't care if you happen to sing Britney Spears in the shower while you jack off! I love you, Tweek! Mind, body, and soul. With all your spazzing and your phobias and your dancing and molesting of mop handles. Not to mention you're absolutely adorable, stupid-cute, and you have the most bitealicious–looking ass I have ever seen in my life." Tweek's color deepened further, and he nearly choked on his own saliva, but he also smiled shyly, happier than he could have ever imagined hearing Craig say that blessed "L" word. The world was everything Tweek Tweak ever wanted all in that one moment.

Tweek Tweak was king of the universe. And as king, he was feeling much braver than usual too.

_He really loves me. And he even _wants_ me too! Like physically! Woah, man! Oh God! Don't know why, but I'm not gonna argue. Why in the world would I? He's beautiful in every way! And even more, he accepts me just like I am._

"Hey C-craig?"

_I'll be just fine. With him by my side, everything IS alright._

"Yeah?"

"I want to show you something." Reluctantly rising from Craig's warm lap, he made his way over to the CD player to fiddle with it.

"Ooooo, am I going to get to see that tight little ass of yours wiggling around in front of me again?" Said with a mischievous grin and a wink.

"CRAIG! ACK!"

"Sorry."

Tweek began clicking through songs to find the one he wanted. _Mmmm…here goes nothing again! _Great Balls of Fire began to play again. Craig laughed and rose to dance with his blond, twitching heart's desire.

"Oh, by the way, Tweek…not that I'm complaining or anything…I in fact quite enjoy it…"

"What?"

"Well…nice boxers…a little…big though?"

"Huh?"

Craig leaned over, glanced down and in a conspiratorial whisper said, "I can see your…"

He got no farther before Tweek looked down himself.

"OH JESUS!"

_**THE END

* * *

**_

**  
**

**End notes:** This is based on one of my many odd quirks, with Tweek/Craig slashiness thrown in to give me warm fuzzies and happy dreams. See, I have a particular computer playlist/burned CD called "Bouncin'" that I **must have** for cleaning my house. Can't clean without it. And as I clean I also bounce and shake and sing really loud and twitch and generally make a fool out of myself. Mental disorders can be fun! But I don't have anybody to come home and catch me and make me freak but then make me feel good about it. Which would usually make me sad, but right now I'm too happy for Tweek! I so live vicariously through him… Anyway, I had this idea smack dab out of nowhere in the middle of work and had to come home and write it. My four other stories were summarily shunted to the back burner for a night. YAY for ADD kids. I know a part of this is a very hackneyed film steal, but I tried to adapt it to my own experience. If I have failed, let me know so I can marvel at my own unoriginality.

And you thought this was going to be porn, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? You scandalous people you! ;)

**Songs/lyrics used in this fic (DON'T OWN, NOT MAKING MONEY, DON'T SUE!)**

Dance, Dance--Fall Out Boy

The Anthem--Good Charlotte

Original Prankster--The Offspring

Footloose--Kenny Loggins

The Twist--Chubby Checker

Great Balls of Fire--Jerry Lee Lewis

Everything Is Alright--Motion City Soundtrack (mine and Tweek's theme song)

And of course…

Old Time Rock and Roll—Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band

Thanks to and for confirming any lyrics I wasn't sure about.

**Once again, read and review please. You'll totally make my day!**

**Your friend,**

**Twitch**


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